


i'm a young man (built to fall)

by emiliaslibrary



Series: carmina ad vitam inspirat [4]
Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Sorry, Lonely TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Pain, Poor dude, Possible Character Death, Short One Shot, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), With Dream, author only wants pain, exile arc part two, no beta we die like men, tommy trapped in the prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:48:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29622999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emiliaslibrary/pseuds/emiliaslibrary
Summary: Tommy never expected to end up in the prison with the man he hated.He never expected it to end up like this, either.(title from song "mind over matter")
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dream SMP Ensemble & TommyInnit, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: carmina ad vitam inspirat [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122848
Comments: 12
Kudos: 126





	i'm a young man (built to fall)

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING! if death in any way, shape, or form hurts you, please do not read this.  
> continue at your own risk! 
> 
> but enjoy :D

Seven days.

One hundred and sixty-eight hours.

Ten thousand and eighty minutes.

Over six hundred thousand seconds.

Tommy wasn’t sure how much time had passed since the explosives went off. Soon after, he had collapsed—stress and rage and panic ripping the rug right out from under him, causing him to lose consciousness for an undeterminable amount of time.

Well, _technically,_ that wasn’t quite true. Dream had said he had been out of it for around twelve hours. But Dream didn’t have a clock anymore, having tossed into the lava too many times.

Tommy didn’t know if the other man was right, though. He almost refused to believe it out of sheer spite. And, maybe, out of fear, too. As if, trusting the man with even such a small piece of truth would cause irrevocable damage to Tommy’s mental state.

If he trusted him with this . . . where would it lead?

So, Tommy assumed—because he was smart and could do this by himself, damn you—that it had been half a day lost to sleep. He had half a mind to just continue sleeping . . . see how long he could pass time by simply being unconscious. If he was unconscious, Dream couldn’t talk to him.

That would be nice.

When he had awoken, he was curled up—knees clutched to his chest, head tucked forward. Slowly, Tommy loosened his muscles, allowing himself to uncurl from the fetal position. The lava had overheated his face from being so close to it. Cheeks flushed, mouth parched, lips chapped. He smacked his lips before struggling to sit up, head turning slowly to the other side of the room.

He froze. Dream was sitting across from him, one leg thrown over the side of the bed while the other was bent in front of him. A book and pen sat in his lap, and he was scribbling on one of the pages within. Blonde hair obscured his vision as his head was facing downward. Tommy couldn’t see what was being written, but the other man was writing quickly.

As if sensing a pair of eyes watching him, Dream glanced up. A slow smile overtook his face as he realized Tommy was awake. When he spoke, his voice was soft.

“Hi, Tommy. How are you feeling?”

Tommy reared his head back, unconsciously trying to physically shake the words away. “How am I? What the fuck? I just woke up from passing out because I learned that there was no way out of here for a week—and you ask how I fucking am?” He turned, facing Dream now with his arms crossed in front of him.

Dream pouted, bottom lip jutting out slightly, and tilted his head. “Why wouldn’t I care about how you feel? Tommy, like you said, you just passed out. I wanted to know if you felt okay now, that’s all.”

He closed the book, tucking the pen between the pages. Setting it to the side, he stood, stretching as he rose. Tommy glared, placing his hands on the hard obsidian beneath him. He didn’t want the older man to come any closer—the small room was already making his claustrophobia flare up, feeling like a small lump in his throat. But Dream didn’t walk towards him, only turned to open the chest and place the book inside.

“Dream, you literally threatened to take away everything I care about. That’s not an indication of you caring, bitch.” Tommy said, scooting backwards until his back hit the wall. The room was too small to put the amount of distance he wanted between the two, but this would have to be enough.

Spoiler: it wasn’t.

* * *

It had been hours.

Days.

Years.

Tommy was never going to get out of this fucking box.

His legs carried him back and forth in front of the wall of lava, each step feeling like it reverberated around the rest of the room. He didn’t know how long he had been pacing, but with nothing else to do, he continued on.

* * *

Slowly, Tommy eased into a crouch. Fingers weaving into his hair, he tugged harshly.

Harsh breaths tore out of his lungs, forcing his chest to rise and fall far too quickly. His hands dropped, finding the cool obsidian floor, and his head dangled limply forward.

_Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . ._

A warm hand was placed on his back, and Tommy jerked involuntarily. The warmth disappeared, only for a moment, before returning.

Tommy did not fight it this time.

“Breathe, Tommy.”

_Three . . . Two . . ._

* * *

Back against the wall, the cold was permeating through his thin shirt, chilling him all the way to his bones. His knees were pulled up, arms encircling them, head falling forward.

Tommy was resting. His eyes were closed. His mind was foggy.

Vaguely, he felt a blanket being draped over his shoulders.

And his heart warmed.

_. . . One._

* * *

Another day.

Tommy was kneeling in front of the lava, staring blankly into the red fire. His gaze was unwavering from the burning wall before him.

Dream sat beside him, legs crossed with his face resting in the palm of his hand.

“What are we doing here, Tommy?”

“We put you in here for a reason, Dream.” Tommy said, voice devoid of any emotion. His eyes watered, and he allowed a slow blink.

A bit of green peaked into his peripheral, and the face of his

~~ abuser? ~~

~~ acquaintance? ~~

~~ enemy? ~~

~~ _friend?_ ~~

appeared sympathetic.

“What reason?” Dream questioned softly, “If it’s so important for me to be serving my time, learning my lesson . . . why did they give you back to me?”

“Your company isn’t a punishment, Tommy,” he continued, “Because _we have so much fun together_.”

The younger boy stiffened, those words causing a visceral reaction and the outside world a harsh reminder of the people who didn’t care about him enough to get him out. He didn’t see the way Dream’s eyes flashed, and the corner of his mouth curled up cruelly for only a moment.

However, he did see the older man’s eyes soften and he saw the pitiful expression and he saw the disappointed slouch and he saw the hand reaching out to comfort.

Tommy saw.

And he did not look away.

* * *

It had been a long time since Tommy first got trapped in this cell.

He had long since given up trying to keep up with the days.

Now, in a fashion that was intimately familiar to him, he was sat on the floor, staring in to the wall of lava. It cascaded down and down and down. A never ending fountain of red. Never once entering the small room, but making sure there was no chance of exit.

It looked so warm.

Tommy was so cold.

His fingers were stiff and his knees ached. The boy honestly thought his toes might fall off any day now. And it wasn’t just a physical ailment. His soul was cold, too—so cold it was numb. Tommy didn’t feel anything anymore. No anger to ignite a warm fire inside him, no pain to ground him to reality.

Another familiar constant—the presence at his side. Dream had just dropped down beside him, close enough to allow Tommy to drop his head on the older man’s shoulder.

Comfortable.

“Dream?” Tommy rasped, a vocal companion to the silent tears carving paths down his face. His voice was low, speaking quietly even though there was no one else to listen.

“Yeah?”

“I’m so tired.” It was evident in his voice. The exhaustion was like a weight pulling down his syllables, making his voice feel heavy. It mimicked his spirit.

Dream reached around with his right hand, letting it drag through the pale blonde strands. Tommy closed his eyes, allowing the sensation to bring him some semblance of comfort.

As gentle as a breeze on a soft summer day, Dream said, “Let go, Tommy.”

Like a string being pulled in two directions, the young boy snapped. He let his weight sag against the other man, any fight left in him completely drained out.

He was so tired.

“Don’t let them think I was a coward,” Voice muffled by Dream’s shirt, Tommy used the last dregs of his energy to pull his head up. Blue eyes pierced bright green ones. “Please, Dream. Don’t tell them that I gave up.”

In a final act of integrity usually unfamiliar to the man, he promised. “I will tell them that you were brave, and strong, and you fought me to the very end. That you were loud, and desperate, and undeserving of the hand you were dealt.”

“Thank you,” Tommy breathed, tension falling away from his shoulders. He ran a hand over his still beating heart, and turned his head up to the ceiling. “I think I’m ready to let go now.”

Dream ducked his head, letting his hand rest a comforting weight on Tommy’s back. Such a familiar picture, reminiscent of a day so long ago when he had idled over the edge of a bridge, red below him, his hesitation his salvation. Then, too, a hand had reached out, but, today, that hand did not stop him.

Instead, that hand pushed.

And he smiled.

[ _TommyInnit tried to swim in lava._ ]

Somewhere, in a snow-covered house, a young man screamed.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know how much i like this. does dream canonically have a bed in his cell? if he doesn’t, then i took some artistic liberties for this fic lmao.
> 
> also, it’s unlikely that Dream would let Tommy die, but also.. if he could use Tommy’s resurrection as a bargaining chip against the rest of the server... and then resurrect a freshly manipulated Tommy?  
> Anyways...
> 
> anyways, i hope you enjoyed!  
> & have a great day!
> 
> P.S. happy birthday, sapnap!
> 
> update!!!!!  
> ahaha.. haha.. ha..  
> this didn’t age well, huh?   
> my b, my b :D


End file.
